Sunday Mornin` Comin` Down

<br>Well I woke up Sunday morning<br>with no way to hold my head, that didn`t hurt<br>and the beer I had for breakfast<br>wasn`t bad so I had one more for dessert<br>then I fumbled through my closet for my clothes<br>and found my cleanest dirty shirt <br>it`s the one I`m wearin`<br>and I shaved my face and combed my hair<br>and stumbled down the stairs to meet the day<br><br>I`d smoked my brain the night before <br>or I smoked so much the night before<br>with cigarettes and songs that I`ve been pickin` <br>my mouth was like an ashtray I`d been lickin`<br>but I lit my first and watched a small kid<br>cussin` at a can that he was kicking<br>then I crossed the empty street<br>and caught the Sunday smell of someone fryin` chicken<br>and it took me back to somethin`<br>that I`d lost somehow somewhere along the way<br><br>Chorus: <br>On the Sunday morning sidewalks<br>wishing Lord that I was stoned<br>`cause there is something in a Sunday<br>that makes a body feel alone<br>and there`s nothin` short of dyin`<br>half as lonesome as the sound<br>on the sleepin` city side walks<br>Sunday mornin` comin` down<br><br><br>In the park I saw a daddy<br>with a laughing little girl who he was swingin`<br>and I stopped beside a Sunday school<br>and listened to the song that they were singin`<br>then I headed back for home and<br>somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringin`<br>and it echoed thru the canyon like<br>the disappearing dreams of yesterday.<br><br>Chorus: <br>On the Sunday morning sidewalks<br>wishing Lord that I was stoned<br>`cause there is something in a Sunday<br>that makes a body feel alone<br>and there`s nothin` short of dyin`<br>half as lonesome as the sound<br>on the sleepin` city side walks<br>Sunday mornin` comin` down.